Today mum died, or it could be yesterday. I don't know. I received an telegram from the asile saying: Mother passed away. Funeral Tomorrow. Deep Sympathy. It didn't mention that. It could be yesterday.

The asile is at Marengo, 45 km from Alger. I will take the bus at 2pm and arrive in the afternoon. Then I can stay and return tomorrow night. I asked the patron for 2-day leave and he can't refuse me with such an reason. He is not content. I said to him: "This is not my fault." He didn't respond. It then came to me that I don't have to say that. In short, I don't have to excuse myself. He should rather show his condolences to me. But he will do it after tomorrow, when he sees me in black. For this moment, it seems as mum isn't dead. After the funeral, on the contrary, it will be a classed manner and all will have an offical manner.

I took the bus at 2pm. It was very hot. I ate at a restaurant Céleste as usual. They were so sorrowful to me. Céleste sad to me: "There is no one as mother." When I left, they accompanied me to the door. I was absent-minded because I should visit Emmanuel to borrow a black tie and an armband. He lost his uncle months ago.

I ran to catch the departure. Because of this haste, this race, add to the jolts are the smell of gasoline, the reverberation or the road and the sky, I made my self drowsy. I slept all the way. We I woke up, I found my self sitting against a soldier. He smiled at me and asked if I could sit closer. I said "yes" for I don't want to talk more.

The asile is 2km to the village. I walked there. I wanted to see my mum immediatedly, but the caretaker told me I should talk to the manager. As he is busy, I waited for a while. The caretaker was talking to me during that time. Later I saw the director: he meet me in his office. He was a little old man, with the Legion of Honor. He looked at me with his gray eyes then we shook hands for such a long time that I don't konw how to remove my hand. He checked the dossier and told me "Mme Meursault came here 3 years ago. You are her only relative." I believed that he was criticizing me somthing and I started to explain my self to him. But he interuptted: "You don't have to justify yourself, my dear children. I saw the file of your mother. You could't support her life. She needed a nurse. Your salary is modest, and all in all, she was happier here." I saied: "Yes, Mr. Directoor." He added: "You know, she had some friends of her age. She could share with them the intests of another time. You are young and she'd be annoyed with you."

It was true. When she was in the house, she spent her time with me through her silent eyes. When she first came to this asile, she always cried. But it was because of the habit. After several months, she would cry if was taken away from the asile. All is because of habit. It is part of the reason that in the first year I hardly went there. And also because of that I hardly went on weekends - not to count the effor to take the bus, buy the ticket and spend 2h on the road.